"Then you do not suppose he ever really cared about her?"
"I am persuaded that he never did."

"And only made believe to do so for mischief's sake?"
Henry bowed his assent.

"Well, then, I must say that I do not like him at all.
Though it has turned out so well for us, I do not like him

at all. As it happens, there is no great harm done,
because I do not think Isabella has any heart to lose.

But, suppose he had made her very much in love with him?"
"But we must first suppose Isabella to have had a heart

to lose--consequently to have been a very different creature;
and, in that case, she would have met with very different treatment."

"It is very right that you should stand by your brother."
"And if you would stand by yours, you would not be

much distressed by the disappointment of Miss Thorpe.
But your mind is warped by an innate principle of

general integrity, and therefore not accessible to the cool
reasonings of family partiality, or a desire of revenge."

Catherine was complimented out of further bitterness.
Frederick could not be unpardonably guilty, while Henry

made himself so agreeable. She resolved on not answering
Isabella's letter, and tried to think no more of it.

CHAPTER 28
Soon after this, the general found himself obliged

to go to London for a week; and he left Northanger
earnestly regretting that any necessity should rob him

even for an hour of Miss Morland's company, and anxiously
recommending the study of her comfort and amusement

to his children as their chief object in his absence.
His departure gave Catherine the first experimental conviction

that a loss may be sometimes a gain. The happiness with
which their time now passed, every employment voluntary,

every laugh indulged, every meal a scene of ease and
good humour, walking where they liked and when they liked,

their hours, pleasures, and fatigues at their own command,
made her thoroughlysensible of the restraint which the

general's presence had imposed, and most thankfully feel
their present release from it. Such ease and such delights

made her love the place and the people more and more
every day; and had it not been for a dread of its soon

becoming expedient to leave the one, and an apprehension
of not being equallybeloved by the other, she would at

each moment of each day have been perfectly happy; but she
was now in the fourth week of her visit; before the general

came home, the fourth week would be turned, and perhaps
it might seem an intrusion if she stayed much longer.

This was a painfulconsiderationwhenever it occurred;
and eager to get rid of such a weight on her mind,

she very soon resolved to speak to Eleanor about it
at once, propose going away, and be guided in her conduct

by the manner in which her proposal might be taken.
Aware that if she gave herself much time, she might

feel it difficult to bring forward so unpleasant
a subject, she took the first opportunity of being

suddenly alone with Eleanor, and of Eleanor's being
in the middle of a speech about something very different,

to start forth her obligation of going away very soon.
Eleanor looked and declared herself much concerned.

She had "hoped for the pleasure of her company for a much
longer time--had been misled (perhaps by her wishes)

to suppose that a much longer visit had been promised--and
could not but think that if Mr. and Mrs. Morland were

aware of the pleasure it was to her to have her there,
they would be too generous to hasten her return."

Catherine explained: "Oh! As to that, Papa and Mamma were
in no hurry at all. As long as she was happy, they would

always be satisfied."
"Then why, might she ask, in such a hurry herself

to leave them?"
"Oh! Because she had been there so long."

"Nay, if you can use such a word, I can urge you
no farther. If you think it long--"

"Oh! No, I do not indeed. For my own pleasure, I could
stay with you as long again." And it was directly settled that,

till she had, her leaving them was not even to be thought of.
In having this cause of uneasiness so pleasantly removed,

the force of the other was likewise weakened. The kindness,
the earnestness of Eleanor's manner in pressing her to stay,

and Henry's gratified look on being told that her stay
was determined, were such sweet proofs of her importance

with them, as left her only just so much solicitude
as the human mind can never do comfortably without.

She did--almost always--believe that Henry loved her,
and quite always that his father and sister loved and

even wished her to belong to them; and believing so far,
her doubts and anxieties were merely sportive irritations.

Henry was not able to obey his father's injunction of
remaining wholly at Northanger in attendance on the ladies,

during his absence in London, the engagements of his curate
at Woodston obliging him to leave them on Saturday for a

couple of nights. His loss was not now what it had been
while the general was at home; it lessened their gaiety,

but did not ruin their comfort; and the two girls agreeing
in occupation, and improving in intimacy, found themselves

so well sufficient for the time to themselves, that it was
eleven o'clock, rather a late hour at the abbey, before they

quitted the supper-room on the day of Henry's departure.
They had just reached the head of the stairs when it seemed,

as far as the thickness of the walls would allow them
to judge, that a carriage was driving up to the door,

and the next moment confirmed the idea by the loud noise
of the house-bell. After the first perturbation of surprise

had passed away, in a "Good heaven! What can be the matter?"
it was quickly decided by Eleanor to be her eldest brother,

whose arrival was often as sudden, if not quite so unseasonable,
and accordingly she hurried down to welcome him.

Catherine walked on to her chamber, making up her
mind as well as she could, to a further acquaintance with

Captain Tilney, and comforting herself under the unpleasant
impression his conduct had given her, and the persuasion

of his being by far too fine a gentleman to approve of her,
that at least they should not meet under such circumstances

as would make their meeting materiallypainful.
She trusted he would never speak of Miss Thorpe;

and indeed, as he must by this time be ashamed of the
part he had acted, there could be no danger of it;

and as long as all mention of Bath scenes were avoided,
she thought she could behave to him very civilly.

In such considerations time passed away, and it was certainly
in his favour that Eleanor should be so glad to see him,

and have so much to say, for half an hour was almost
gone since his arrival, and Eleanor did not come up.

At that moment Catherine thought she heard her
step in the gallery, and listened for its continuance;

but all was silent. Scarcely, however, had she convicted
her fancy of error, when the noise of something moving